


I'm Not Gay

by kanekicure



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Self-Acceptance, Self-Hatred, also victor's dad is trash, as a son, basically victor doesn't want to believe he's gay, but yakov loves him anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9527399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanekicure/pseuds/kanekicure
Summary: Yakov later found him in the men’s bathroom, his knees brought to his chest as he rocked back and forth. Tears were staining his costume as he shook his head, “I’m not a faggot coach, I promise you.” His voice cracked, “I’m not gay.”Yakov only nodded.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that in the YOI universe, there is not homophobia. But I wanted to do an almost AU, with how it could've been if there was. I also just really wanted to do Victor/Yakov father-son relationship xD. But please enjoy! Sorry if there is mistakes, or it isn't the best. I haven't been writing for awhile now lmao ^^

Yakov had heard very many appalling statements from his student, Victor, but this one had to take the cake. Today they were going through his normal routines, the boy gliding across the ice with ease as he warmed up. The shit eating grin he always seemed to wear when he knew it was going to be a good day rested on his face, and it brought some comfort to the old man. He knew Victor had been going through a hard time back home, so part of him was relieved skating could be his escape. 

The sixteen year old came to a sudden stop, his almost, perfect hair falling around his face and in such a model way it almost made Yakov laugh. “Yakov?” Victor voice rang out suddenly, and the man blinked.

“Yes, Victor?” 

“Do I look gay?” The question was high, and open for interpretation; even some other skaters came to a stop to stare at the up coming star who was now skating over to where Yakov stood. Now, admittedly, that was a statement he hadn’t really seen coming. I mean, looking at the boy, he just rather seemed like an angel more than anything. His silver hair growing past his shoulders, his light blue eyes and the sparkly costumes. Well, Yakov didn’t want to call out stereotypes but Victor didn’t exactly look like the classic heterosexual, Russian, male. 

Yakov coughed to gather his posture, “Why do you ask?” He questioned and Victor frowned, crossing his arms. 

“Because my dad said I did, and I-” Victor fell short and his eyes fell to the ground, “And I’m not.” He finished quietly.  
Yakov didn’t know what to say, admittedly, he had just assumed the younger boy’s sexuality. Which he guessed wasn’t right of him. And being Russia, being gay wouldn’t make things easy for him. 

“Okay, Victor. I don’t see what this has to do with skating.” The words caused the boy to flinch slightly and he nodded his head. Pushing off the sidelines he did a quick spin and returned to the smiling face, though it seemed much more forced than before. 

“Twas’ just seeing coach!” 

Yakov sighed, “Just skate already.” 

~~~

“And the faggot wins!” Yakov head snapped over in the direction of a sore losers voice over the crowds of other skaters. All their voices were mingling as one, but the comment was yelled higher and harsher than the usual conversations. Victor, was the first person to come to mind as Yakov felt a quick urge to search for his star student in the crowd. He quickly found the silver locks who was now glaring at another skater with a distasteful stance, the gold medal hung around his student’s neck and, nothing on the other boys. 

“Can gays only win? Cause you’re all sparkly off the ice as well huh?” He’s from America, Yakov noted, eyeing the jacket he wore over his own sparkly costume. He was now stepping closer to Victor who seemed more distressed by the minute, but still kept on a poor face of annoyance. 

“Oh please, don’t go trying to find an excuse as to why I’m better than you. It’s called skills, something you apparently lack.” Victor snarled back, trying to push around the taller boy who had the guts to wrap his meaty fist around the ponytail on Victor’s head.

A cry of surprise left his students mouth, and then a broken snarl of anger. Victor flew around, tugging free for the older kids grasp, his hands curling into a fist and before Yakov could call for the boy to stop. His fist connected to the America’s skater’s face.  
“Tell me if a faggot could punch like that.” Victor growled, and the boy collapsed to the ground holding onto his nose as the Russian legend proceed to storm away in a fit of fury.

Yakov later found him in the men’s bathroom, his knees brought to his chest as he rocked back a forth. Tears were staining his costume as he shook his head, “I’m not a faggot coach, I promise you.” His voice cracked, “I’m not gay.” 

Yakov only nodded. 

~~~

Yakov never liked Victor’s father.  
It wasn’t just because he always reeked of alcohol (more so than a normal Russian man), or the fact he kept jumping woman to woman. It was the way he looked at Victor that really made his blood boil. 

“So this, is what he does.” The man pointed out as Victor glided around the ice silently, his headphones in and eyes closed. 

“Yes. He’s our best.” Yakov chose to say, “I’m sure you’ve seen him on TV?”  
The man than frown, “No, never.” He paused as Victor took off into a Toe Loop, again, perfectly executed. But his father sighed, even so, his frown seemed to grow bigger. “Why does he keep his hair so long, he’s starting to look like a girl.”    
    Yakov said nothing, picking to watch his student rather than watch an ungrateful man, glare down at his own son with disgust. 

    After some yelling on Yakov part, to Victor for him letting his free leg on sloppy. And annoyed snorts for his father; Victor came to a stop in front of both of them.  
     
“Dad?” He asked, pulling his other headphone out. “What are you doing here.” The boy glanced between him and Yakov, who took it as a sign to step back and out of the conversation.  
    
  “Just wanted to see if this was really what you’re still doing. Since your mom died you never really talked about it so I thought you quit.”  
     
“Quit? Where do you think I always am half the time? Do you turn on the TV?” Victor was angry now, Yakov knew that look well in those blue eyes. Victor was always good at keeping his anger in, besides that one time he punched a competitor. But the way his fists curled around the edge of the rink and his jaw was locking into place; Yakov knew better.  
     
His father didn’t seem surprised, he only shrugged. “Don’t see the point anymore, that was you and your mom’s thing. I was just thinking you were going and seeing some girl but I guess I’m not that lucky.”  
     
Victor said nothing his eyes falling to the ground again, “Why did you really come here?” He asked again, his fists going white. “I moved out, I thought that’d be enough.” 

 Distastefully, Victor’s father reached out a hand and tugged at a loose strand of Victor’s hair and shook his head. “You know what? You’re right, I didn’t raise a fucking faggot. So I don’t need to visit one.”  
     
“Leave.” Victor and Yakov said at the same time, and the man didn’t argue; he turned on his heels, walking out the rink’s doors. 

Victor was also leaving the rink, tugging off his skates roughly, his eyes were shining but Yakov didn’t didn’t say anything. If he learned anything in the ten years coaching Victor, it was don’t speak when he was about to cry. He simply watched his student go, Victor, offering him a small smile before the doors slammed closed behind him. 

Later that night, Yakov’s phone rang. At first it was annoyance he felt when he rolled over at god knows what time to see who’s calling. At first he hoped it was Lila calling to beg him to let her come back into his arms… but he also had common sense. He deflated when he saw Victor’s caller ID showing on the phone,  
    Picking it up hastily he answered, “You have any idea what time it is Vitya!” He hissed, not noticing the heavy breaths on the other side. 

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry.” Victor was repeating and Yakov quickly noted that he was crying. “I didn’t know what to do- I messed up Yakov, I’m so sorry.”  
     
After a long, panicked car ride, and a lot of running (or as much as his old body could take) He was standing at Victor’s apartment door, slamming on it with his fist. After what felt like hours; the door opened slowly. Showing a very fucked up Victor. Yakov didn’t know how else to put it, Victor was a mess. And his hair- 

The long locks that Victor was known for, were gone. What was left was a choppy mess of silver strands up to his shoulder, bits of the long locks clung to his shirt and pants. 

‘Vitya… What did you do?” The usual anger was gone from Yakov, he had no want to yell at Victor for this. All that was left was the need to comfort the boy he watched grow into a man. The student he saw more as his son than anything else. 

Yakov stepped into the apartment and closed the door silently behind him as Victor crumpled to the ground. The sobs wracked his body as he shook his head again, it reminded Yakov of the time after he had punched out the American boy. Or the times his dad had yelled at him too loud, when he would run to the rink. Because he had nowhere to run too. He was alone, he was so alone and it hurt Yakov that he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

“They can’t know, they can’t know Yakov.” His voice was shaking, “I’m sorry but they can’t know- I can’t disappoint them. I’m sorry.” 

“Vitya stop! Calm down, you’re upset with what your dad said right? You’re hair will grow back-”

“I don’t want it too!” Victor yelled, “My dad’s right, I’m a faggot Yakov! I’m- I’m-” 

Yakov sucked in a breath, he was sick of this term ‘faggot.’ “You’re gay, Vitya. And it’s fine, I know Russia is behind a bit. But you don’t need to do this to yourself because of it.” Yakov nealed in front of his broken student but Victor pushed himself away. 

“All my fans, my family, the skaters, all of them will hate me. My dad told me since I was young that this is wrong- that I am wrong Yakov. It’s not fine.” 

“Vitya-” 

But Victor was already standing, brushing away his tears. “I’m getting a haircut.” His words were final and Yakov decided it would be easier to not argue. Pulling on his coat Victor pulled the hood over his head and turned, “Yakov, don’t you dare say anything.”  
And with that, he was gone. 

~~~  
So that’s what Yakov did. He said nothing of that night. He said nothing when Victor introduced him to his girlfriends, he did nothing as Victor let himself be considered the hottest bachelor in the world. He said nothing as he watched Victor build himself a lie. 

He watched until Yuuri Katsuki come swinging (quite literally) into Victor’s life. The arms dangling around Victor’s neck as a blush was playing across his cheeks.

“Victorrrrrrrr.” The boy almost purred, “You are so beautiful. Like I looove you!” He cooed.  
Yakov watched his student fall in love. He watched the walls he had built so high start to crumple, and even as Victor left him to fill the wishes of the drunk japanese boy. Even if Yakov was furious, he saw the small plead in the man’s eyes.

Months were passing, and Yakov found himself wondering what Victor was doing. The coach side of him was livid, but the other side. The side that saw Victor as a son rather than a past student, could only hope Vitya wasn’t trying to lie to himself anymore.  
At the Cup Of China, Yakov watched Yuuri and wondered if he knew what he had done. The thing he had been trying to do for so many years, Yuuri was doing in months. Victor was smiling with genuine happiness, everything Yuuri did or said, caused that look to cross his face. 

Yakov chuckled to himself, Victor was always one to go to the extreme with things. 

So, he was the only one not surprised as Victor smashed his lips to Yuuri’s in front of the world. Because why would Victor Nikiforov come out normally. Yakov listened to the crowds roar of positivity, he watched the lights dance in Victor’s eyes as he took Yuuri’s hand within his own. He saw Victor realize, that he wasn’t wrong, he watched the lies Victor had told himself disappear. 

When Victor walked past him, he saw the soft smile he gave Yakov. The hidden thank you, and for the first time in forever, he heard Victor proudly announce the words he always refused to say, after 27 years;

“I’m gay!”


End file.
